


Michael Mell is Indeed, Michael Mell.

by tutty172



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Gender Dysphoria, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, IM NOT EVEN KIDDING, Michael has two moms, Sensory Overload, Trans Michael, also, but psa always edit before you turn stuff in, hints at boyf riends but its sorta there not really, i actually turned that in help, i wrote this for a grade, it ended up being 23 pages help, like they dont know why they're blushing, mentions of food, mr reyes is now a gym teacher im not kidding, or else you get "Jeremy who wore boys freely", this was a minimum of one page essay, this was my english essay, wow these tags are a mess i need to stop, you can pry it from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 10:52:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12703542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tutty172/pseuds/tutty172
Summary: "Michelle Mell" had never felt like she truly belonged there, with the girls. She voices her thoughts to Jeremy.





	Michael Mell is Indeed, Michael Mell.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't believe there are any trigger warnings in this story, maybe mentions of food, as they have dinner, but I believe that's it! Also, Michael has sensory overload at one part, after he tells Jeremy "What if I told you that…I didn't exactly feel like a girl?", but it's only for one paragraph. Michael also has some self-deprecating but it's very little. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I am a cis girl. If Michael's thoughts and feelings at the beginning of the story are unrealistic, please tell me! Thank you!  
> Anyways, on to the story!

Michelle Mell was a girl. That was a fact that was completely obvious. She wore girls clothing(at least if baggy jeans and random graphic t-shirts with the occasionally forced dress counted as girl's clothes), she used she and her pronouns, she had a girl's name, she had a girl's body, she was a girl. That was a way of life. Michelle Mell was destined to be a girl. 

So why did it feel. . . wrong somehow?

Why was she constantly envious of Jeremy, who wore boys clothing freely, who used he and him pronouns, who had a boy’s name, who had a boy’s body, who was so obviously a boy? Jeremy was never forced into a dress at family parties. Jeremy was never told to grow out his hair because it was ‘proper’. Jeremy was never pressured to wear makeup and revealing clothes by the media at such a young age, or at all. Jeremy wasn’t a girl.

Michelle learned to live with the sinking feeling in her gut that had been there as long as she could remember. The feeling that told her that she'll never be a ‘proper girl', the feeling that constantly whispered in her ear whenever she walked into the girl's locker room and bathroom, ‘You don't belong here, you never will', the feeling that wouldn't go away. She learned to live with it because that was the way it was supposed to be. 

So why did she hesitate? 

“Girls to the left, boys to the right!” The P.E. teacher, Mr. Reyes, yelled, his voice echoing throughout the gym. 

Everyone immediately started to move to their respective places, but Michelle stayed in the middle. In a matter of seconds, she was alone, making eye contact with Jeremy, who looked worried, but stayed put on his side, the left side. 

“Michelle! What are you doing? Go to the right!”

Michelle went to the right. Slowly, with her head hanging down in an odd mixture of shame, sadness, and confusion. Why didn't she go the right immediately? Why did she have to stay put? Why did she stare at Jeremy and his side? Why did she feel a pull there, the feeling that she would belong better there than the right side? 

She heard everyone whisper around her as the Mr. Reyes explained the rules of the game they were going to play.

“What the heck?"

“She just stayed in the middle!”

“What a freak!”

“Such an idiot.”

Michelle felt the tears prickle in her eyes. Of course. When someone does something of that caliber, they’re going to have consequences. When people go out of the norm, they get called names, they get isolated, they have to pay the price. She pushed her glasses back up on her nose, not paying Mr. Reyes any attention, but neither was anybody else. Michelle looked up, confident enough to make eye contact with someone, but Jeremy was intent on listening to Mr. Reyes, and every time she tried to look at another girl, they would scowl and start whispering more. 

Michelle hated P.E.

That night, she hung with Jeremy in her basement. It was a tradition by now, started in around 4th grade, when their parents finally trusted that they could be alone together, and knew that they weren't going to be separated by any means. Every day after school, they would finish their homework and start playing video games together. They had been in love with the electronic world since before kindergarten, that was what had brought them together. Who knew that Super Mario Bros™ could cause friendships that would last a lifetime?

"Apocalypse of the Damned!" Michelle exclaimed the name of the game out loud. 

"Level Nine!" Jeremy followed up, saying the level of the game they were on. He had his hands in a death grip on his controller, ready to jump in and start playing.

"The Cafetorium!" They yelled in unison, starting to play the level that had seemed impossible. They had been stuck on the same level for what seemed like forever, but they were sure to beat it now!

They played through the game, beating zombies, moving as animatedly as their characters, yelling every five seconds when something went completely wrong or exactly their way.

They were so hopeful, 'This will be the day! This'll day we'll finally get to the next level!'

Those dreams were crushed many, many times. 

"Man," Michelle spoke up after losing around twenty-three times, but who was keeping count? "We suck." 

"Maybe we're losing our skills."

Jeremy and Michelle looked at each other for a millisecond, faces blank, before bursting out into laughter.

Jeremy? Michelle? Not good at video games? Nice joke!

"Okay dude, I actually have something to tell you," Michelle confessed as they calmed down. 

"What's up?" Jeremy asked, starting the new level and starting to play, Michelle going along as well. 

"About today in P.E.," Michelle started slowly, looking and feeling more nervous than she had ever been.

"Yeah, dude, what happened? You looked like you wanted to go with the guys or something."

"I did," Michelle blurted out without thinking. She did that a lot, but it mostly was a complete truth, what she was truly feeling.

Wait…what?

Jeremy paused the game, turning to look at Michelle with a confused look, communicating that he was asking for clarification. 

"It's just that…wait…I didn't mean to…ugh!"She screamed in frustration, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation at herself. God, why couldn't she just communicate her feeling clearly?

"It's okay, take your time," Jeremy laughed, clearly trying to conceal it but not succeeding at all.

"Jeremy! I'm trying to be serious here! Respect the seriousness!" Michelle yelled in a 'duh!' tone, trying to act like some of the girls at their school, namely two named Chloe and Brooke.

"Like, oh my god! Michelle, like, I'm trying my best here, like, respect that," Jeremy replied, also going with the impression.

"Okay, okay dude," Michelle laughed, holding her hand in front of her to silence Jeremy. "I actually have something to tell you. And it is serious, so no laughing!"

"I can be serious! I'm super serious!" Jeremy made his smile disappear. "See! My serious face!" He pointed to his face, which looked less like a 'serious face' and more like an 'I'm-trying-to-hold-my-laughter-in-but-my-best-friend-is-telling-me-to-be-serious face'. "Serious," he added, nodding.

Jeremy's 'serious face' stayed for the whopping period of two seconds before he burst out into laughter, making Michelle laugh along with him.

"Jeremy!" Michelle exclaimed indignantly.

"Fine, fine! What deep secrets do you have to reveal to me?" Jeremy asked, looking Michelle right in the eye, neither of them blinking.  
For some reason, Michelle felt her face heat up. 'Nah,' she thought. 'That's a problem for a different time."

Just then, Jeremy blinked. 

"I win," Michelle announced, her face lighting up with a smile.

"That wasn't a contest!" Jeremy cried!

"Everything's a contest," Michelle replied, looking at Jeremy with an expression that told him that he should know this information.

"Whatever," Jeremy commented, rolling his eyes with a smile on his face. 

"Okay dude, I actually need to tell you something," Michelle reminded, her body tensing and her breathing gaining a little bit of weight. 

"What if I told you that…I didn't exactly feel like a girl?"

Oh god. This was it. This was where Jeremy left her forever. She was going to be alone. Michelle looked away, the silence becoming deafening, but every sound becoming more and more prominent by the second. The _tick-tock_ of the clock became louder and louder that it was _uncomfortable_ , it was uncomfortable to keep on listening, and the music from Apocalypse of the Damned was louder than she thought the tv could play it. Every sound just became louder and louder until Michelle wanted to scream because she just _couldn't_ , she just couldn't deal with it anymore, she couldn't do anything to stop the sounds from going on full blast in her head and she just was all too loud. Why was everything suddenly becoming so loud? Why was every single sound just too prominent and disorganized? Why did her brain just try and focus on every single little sound? Why couldn't everything _just be quiet and stop, please_ -

"That would be okay," Michelle heard from her right, the voice suddenly becoming the loudest thing in the room by silencing everything else in her head. 

"What?" Michelle asked. She tried to look at Jeremy but was greeted by a blurry figure, thanks to the tears that she realized she had in her eyes.

"That would be okay," Jeremy repeated, taking Michelle's glasses off, leaving her just as blind as before, which was very, very blind. 

"You're not going to…unfriend me or something?" Michelle asked, still very much in denial. 

"Not unless you want me to," Jeremy laughed weakly, putting Michelle's glasses on her, and her vision became clear. She looked at Jeremy, who looked like a mixture of worry and trying desperately to help and smile but failing. 

"Never in a million years," Michelle replied, attacking Jeremy with a bear hug. 

"Don't worry about it, man. We gotta stick together. It's the only way we're gonna survive in this world," Jeremy reminded, which reminded Michelle of a little video game based song they made in 3rd grade that reflected their views on life, both then and now.

"We just gotta find the bad guy; push him aside," Michelle quoted from the song, hoping that Jeremy got the reference from so long ago. 

"Then you move on forward with your friend at your side," Jeremy sang, signaling that yes, he got the reference. 

"It's a two-player game, so when they make an attack," Michelle continued. 

"You know, you gotta best friend, gonna have your back," Jeremy sang the last line of that little bit. 

Then, they began to sing together.

"And they you stay on track and I remain on course! And if they give you a smack you gotta use your force! And if you leave your best friend behind, it's lame! 

"'Cuz it's an effed up world but it's a two-player game, hey!" They high-fived, smiling so big their faces were about to split open. 

Michelle took a deep sigh of relief. "Thank you," she confided, amazingly grateful about what the acceptance of her. 

"About what?" Jeremy asked, a little confused about what he was being thanked for. 

"Accepting me, I guess," Michelle explained, her eyes tearing up again. "Just…thank you so much. You're the best friend I could ever ask for."

"No problem man! You're my favorite person!" Jeremy admitted, his voice full of sincerity and emotion. 

"Is it really true?" Michelle asked, unable to explain how much happiness he felt. Maybe she knew it, deep inside, but with Christine, Jeremy's forever crush, she had a few doubts. Now, all of these doubts were expelled. In a millisecond, she thought of the perfect way to ruin the moment, but she voiced it anyway. 

"I'm your _favowite pewson_?" She asked, making a puppy dog face and making her r's sound like w's.

"Yeah," Jeremy agreed, ignoring the comment that was making fun of him. "We're never…" Jeremy trailed off, not knowing how to continue his sentence with still making it clear that they were forever best friends. "…not gonna be a team!" he declared, his use of the double negative making the two laugh.

Michelle hugged Jeremy again as she took in the sincerity of the statement, and knowing that no matter what, they would be best friends. 

"Okay, okay," Jeremy pointed out, as he took his arms away and pulled back. "I'm guessing you want male pronouns? I mean, of course, it's your body and life and stuff but I was just thinking because you said-"

"Yeah." Michelle interrupted. "I think I do. Like, his and him and stuff like that, you know?" 

"Definitely. Uh…what do you want your name to be? I mean, of course, if you want one?"

"Yeah, I think I do want a new name. But, I don't to change my identity too much, you know? Like, I want to stay with an M name," she, no… _he_ proposed.

Now, the next step; to think of a name.

M names. M _boy_ names.

Mitchel? Nah, it seemed too 'white boy' for a proud Filipino.

Mason? No, he didn't really want to have the same name as a jar. 

Michael? Yeah. That sounded right. Michael. Michael Mell.

"Michael," he announced. My new name! Michael!" 

"Michael," Jeremy repeated. "Michael sounds good." He smiled, looking at Michael and smiling. "Hi, Michael."

Michael felt his eyes tear up. The entire situation, with Jeremy accepting him, Jeremy just being so supportive throughout him making his new identity, just…everything. Pure happiness fell on his face in the form of tears, making his eyes blur up. 

"Hi," he replied, his voice completely choked up with tears, and he hugged Jeremy. 

"I honestly want to just break down in sobs from happiness right now because my emotions suck just, all the time, but I have a feeling that wouldn't exactly be super manly," Michael admitted, pulling away and giggling at the amazing mess he was in. 

"Oh cut it out with that toxic masculinity stuff, go ahead and cry."

And Michael did just that.

After what seemed like forever of pure hugs and sobs of happiness, Michael pulled away, a smile radiating on his face. 

"I already said this, but you are the absolute best friend in the world that I could ever hope for, Jeremy," Michael admitted, looking Jeremy right in the eye. 

"Same here man." 

After a few seconds of another unprompted staring contest, of which Jeremy won, the pure ambiance of the Apocalypse of the Damned music was broken by Jeremy. 

"So…do you want to tell your moms?"

Michael's smile dropped. He pushed his glasses further up his nose, looking away. "I mean…I know that they'll accept me and all…but what if they don't?" Michael made eye contact with Jeremy once more, anxiety clear in his eyes. "What if they-"

"Mich- Michael. I'm sure they're not going to do anything other than love you and accept you," Jeremy reassured. 

"But what if they don't? What if they call me a freak of nature just like everyone at school? Oh god, what if they kick me out? Jeremy, I don't know what I'd do-"

Jeremy put his hands on Michael's shoulders and shook him, effectively silencing him. "Hey. Your moms both love you. Do they seem like they're the type of parents who would kick their children out for any reason?"

"I mean…no but-"

"No buts. They love you so much, Michael. They're not going to kick you out or hate you because you don't feel right in your own body."

Michael hung his head, thankfully defeated, but defeated. "You're right."

"Of course I am. When do you want to tell them?" Jeremy asked, taking one hand away, but leaving the other for comfort. 

"Tonight maybe? At dinner?" Michael suggested. 

"Sounds good!"

"Could you spend the night?" Michael blurted out. "I mean, I think I want you there. You're the first person I told about all this, and I think I need some moral support."

"No problem dude. I'd have to ask my dad first, but I'm pretty sure he'll say yes," Jeremy agreed, smiling at Michael. 

"Thanks, Jeremy. Plus, you already have like half of your clothes here because you always forget to take them home, you idiot," Michael added, giggling and pushing Jeremy softly in the arm.

"Who you calling idiot, dingus?" Jeremy replied, returning the punch. 

"Who says dingus anymore?" Michael exclaimed, laughing at the absurdity of the word. 

"I do! Bring the insult 'dingus' back to life! No more lame insults like loser! Dingus is where it's at! #BringDingusBack2k17!"

"Dingus," Michael laughed, pushing Jeremy over. 

After solid ten minutes of the two boys calling each other 'dingus', and advertising it as if it was a wonderful product for only $29.99 plus tax, Jeremy finally realized that he hadn't texted his dad to ask if he could sleep over. Once he started doing that and ended up with calling his dad, Michael turned his attention to the tv, which was still playing the music from Apocalypse of the Damned. 

He had always loved the music of video game soundtracks, but in all honesty, the Apocalypse of the Damned took the cake. It had such a variety of tracks, from slow, calming music, party music that always gave you an adrenaline rush. As soon as he listened to it a while ago, he(or she at that point? He honestly didn't know) immediately downloaded it on his phone. The calming music was amazing when every little thing just became too loud and too much. He would just put on his headphones, put on his "calm." playlist, and let the music wash over him. It was a good coping mechanism. 

"My dad said yeah," Jeremy announced as he walked into the room, interrupting Michael's thoughts. 

"Thanks, dude. I can't imagine not having you there, Player-Two," Michael admitted, nudging Jeremy.

"Um, excuse you? I am most obviously Player-One," Jeremy claimed in a 'duh' tone, walking over and holding up the Player-Two controller that was on his beanbag. 

"That's the wrong controller, dingus."

"Oh." 

After another hour of just messing around and trying to bring back old insults, Michael's mom called the boys down for dinner, unfazed that Jeremy was spending the night, as he did so often. This was it. The time that Michael planned to give the big reveal. 

"Hey, Jeremy. Hey Michelle," his _nanay_ greeted. Michael winced at the name but tried not to show it too much. _Nanay_ didn't know, how was she supposed to realize that Michelle was Michael? 

"Hi _Nanay_ ," Michael replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek as another greeting. 

"Hi _Tita_ " Jeremy chirped in, giving a little wave before turning to look at Michael with an 'are you okay?' expression on his face. Michael nodded before continuing his walk to the dinner table. 

The food was already served, and they thanked his mom for cooking before promptly digging in. 

Once everyone had basically finished their dinner, Michael finally decided to cut in with what was supposed to be a calm "I have something to tell you guys," but ended up sounded "Ihavesomethingtotellyouguys," by the way the words had tumbled out of his mouth. 

Jeremy, who knew what Michael blurted out, both by learning to decipher words being rushed due to the fact that they were friends since kindergarten and Michael rushed his words a lot, and because he already knew what Michael was going to confess. 

‘ _Okay_ ,’ he thought. ‘ _I can do this. I can do this._ ’

Right?

Michael’s heart pounded. He felt himself start to sweat. He could do this, he could do this. He swallowed his nervousness and tried his best to slow down his words. 

“I have something to tell you guys,” he repeated, this time understandable. 

“What is it?” his mother asked, looking at Michael with a caring, but curious look in her eye. 

Michael took a shaky breath. He could do this. He could do this. 

“What if I told you… that I didn’t exactly…feel like Michelle?” He asked, looking away anxiously, his heart pounding harder, his blood rushing in his ears. 

‘ _This is it._ ’ The very little confidence that he had plummeted. Time seemed to go on forever, with each millisecond taking years to pass. ‘ _This is where your own moms will just kick you out and call you a freak of nature and that you were a complete mistake._ ’

“Who do you feel like?” _Nanay_ asked, effectively silencing his thoughts. 

Michael looked at Jeremy, who had been silent throughout dinner, but who gave Michael a reassuring look and spoke up. 

“Like Michael,” he clarified, looking _Nanay_ in the eye. 

“Well then _son_ , that’s perfectly fine,” his mom spoke up, reaching across the table and taking Michael’s hand. 

“Y-you’re not mad?” Michael stuttered, with a hopeful look in his eyes, the largest smile ever forming on his face. 

“I would be quite a hypocrite if I was mad,” she replied, laughing, and looking at _Nanay_. 

"Your mother here is transgender," _Nanay_ announced, also laughing. 

“What?” Michael asked, confused. True, he didn’t feel like a girl and wanted to be a boy, but he didn’t know there was a term for it. 

"Oh, I'm sorry! You might be another gender! You see Michael, there aren't just two genders," his mom explained. "There's an entire spectrum! Some people just fit into the binary, which is boy and girl, like your _Nanay_ and I. But there are some people, such as myself, that don't fit into the gender that they were given at birth, and rather fit into the opposite. I am transgender. But, as I said, there’s an entire spectrum! There are some people who aren't any gender. They will most likely use agender instead. And even so, there is an umbrella term, I guess you could call it, for anyone who doesn't feel like they are just boy or girl, and they are non-binary. Oh, I could go on and on!” 

”I think that’s enough,” _Nanay_ laughed, putting her hand on Mom's. 

“Wow,” Michael breathed, processing all the information. ”I think I'm just transgender,” he laughed, still in a bit of shock from the information. 

”Okay then Michael, was it?” Michael nodded. ”Your mother and I will clear everything up at school, get you the right locker room, bathroom, name, and pronouns. The whole nine yards,” his Nanay laughed, getting up and ruffling Michael's still very long hair. 

“Thank you,” Michael croaked, his throat filled to the brim with happiness and tears. “Thank you guys so much.” He walked over and pulled both of his moms in a giant hug, and after a few moments, included Jeremy as well, who had been sitting until then. 

“No problem,” laughed his mom. “We love you matter what.” 

Michael hugged everyone tighter. 

Once everyone pulled away, his mother asked, “Do you want a binder?”

“A what? Isn’t that a school supplies thing?” Michael asked, clearly confused at all of this new terminology. 

“It safely compresses the chest,” his _nanay_ explained. “Of course, it’s only if you want to, but it might help with any dysphoria you feel.” 

Michael looked down and nodded. “I think I’d like that,” he giggled, looking back up. 

"Well then, let's go buy it!" Michael's mom led them to her office, where she had her computer. She searched up ' _ftm binders_ ' and got a bunch of results, with many of them being sort of "help guides" to both buying binders and fitting them. She clicked on one of the help guides, and it led her to a website with many different links, with help in getting the right binder, and tips for wearing binders as well.

"Just fill in this, and then we can buy one for you," Michaels mom spoke up as she stepped away, revealing sort of "chest size calculator," or at least, that's what it read. Michael filled it out, putting in certain measurements for the chest that he wasn't exactly comfortable saying out loud, making him grateful that his mom let him fill this out on his own. 

"It says my chest size is two," he read out loud, letting his mom know that he was done. 

"Okay, now let's buy the thing!” Michaels mom told him, making a few clicks and going to a binder website. 

With a _click-click-click_ , the binder was ordered, and Michael had a giant smile on his face. 

"It'll come in a week!" Michaels mom chirped, standing up. "While we're at it, do you want anything else? I'm not sure if you have any sweaters for school, it's going to get colder soon."

"Sure," Michael laughed, knowing that none of his sweaters were really uniform friendly in middle school. Sure the Middle Borough High School, the school he wanted to go to, didn't really have a uniform, but he might as well get on this year instead of freezing to death like he usually did in New Jersey in the winter. 

Michael's mom went to Amazon, and searched up "uniform sweaters," and sure enough, millions of red, white, and navy blue sweaters came up. "If you see anything that catches your eye, let me know."

After a bit of scrolling, a cherry red hoodie came up. "How about that one?" Michael asked, pointed to the hoodie. His mom clicked on it, and it came up, with a design of a bear blending in with the mountains on the back. 

"The design is going to be covered with my backpack," Michael added, seeing his mom´s doubts. He almost instantly fell in love with the hoodie, wanting to wear it every day now. 

"Fine," his mom complied, buying the hoodie that was fairly cheap. "It'll come when your binder's arriving."

"Thank you so much," Michael thanked, putting his arms around his mother. "Yeah, yeah," she laughed, standing up and hugging back. 

After the hug, his _Nanay_ asked if Michael wanted a haircut, with no pressure to say yes in her voice. 

“Yes please,” Michael laughed, holding his some of his hair in his hand. “I really want to get rid of this.” 

“No problem, we’ll take you to a salon after school tomorrow. Jeremy can come if you’d like, and if his dad permits.”

Michael looked at Jeremy, asking for permission, and he nodded. “It’d be a pleasure,” he laughed. 

Next week, with his newly cut hair, using a new identity at school, Michael walked home, Jeremy by his side of course, as his house was also right across the street, with two packages at his front door. The boys looked at each other, smiles wide on their faces. 

“Dude.” 

“Dude.” 

Michael quickly opened the door and scooped up the first package and running inside, Jeremy tasked with closing the door, getting the second package, and keeping up as they ran a great distance of two feet to the middle of the living room.

“Dude!” Michael exclaimed, setting down the package carefully. 

Michael’s mom, who worked from home, appeared in the doorway of her office. “I told them to leave it outside so you could find it,” she laughed. 

“You’re the best!” Michael yelled as he opened the first box with his key, opening the contents inside. It looked like a nude tank top, but Michael knew what it was. 

“My binder!” he cheered, holding it up like a child on Christmas. 

“Your binder!” Jeremy repeated, holding his hands up to cheer along. 

"Can I go try it on?" he asked his mom, who nodded and gave him typed instructions on how to do so. He ran to his room, looking at the instructions, which directed him to put it inside out and upside down and step into it, instead of putting it on as if he were putting on a normal tank top. He readjusted his chest so it was flatter, and breathed deeply. He felt like he could breathe normally, and it felt snug, but not so much that he was hurting. Thanks to some research he did prior, he knew that it fit. 

“It fits!” he exclaimed, his voice going through the door and reaching his mom and Jeremy, who he knew were right outside the door. 

“Can we come it?” his mom asked, the smile evident in her voice. 

Michael yelled an agreement, and the two came in, smiling.

“It doesn’t feel too tight or anything? You can breathe normally?” his mom asked, pampering Michael with questions. 

“Yes, yes,” Michael laughed, rolling his eyes playfully. “It’s amazing.” 

Jeremy stepped forward with the second box in his arms. “I thought you’d want to open this one too,” he explained. 

Michael took the box, thanking Jeremy and sat down after taking his key from his mom, who held it out, opened it. 

He took out the hoodie that was in it, the cherry red matching Jeremy’s face, as he blushed very easily and prominently, probably from running and seeing Michael shirtless-even if he did have his binder on. 

“It matches you, dingus,” Michael laughed, holding it next to Jeremy’s face for comparison. 

"Shut up!" cried Jeremy, looking away and turning even brighter than the hoodie, which Michael didn't think was exactly healthy.

"I only tell the truth!" stated Michael, pulling the hoodie back and putting it on. It was too big for him, his hands disappearing into the sleeves. The actual hood almost covered his eyes, and he guessed it would probably go down past his waist if he stood up.

It was perfect. 

“It’s amazing,” he thanked his mother, looking up at her. “I love it. I want to keep it forever.” 

“It looks a bit big,” she pointed out laughing. 

“I don’t care, I’ll grow into it someday!” he noted, making a valid point. 

“Fine, fine,” his mother conceded, still laughing. “We won’t return it. But, yesterday, I did get you something.”

Michael’s eye widened, full of curiosity and surprise. Now he was just getting spoiled. 

“Follow me,” his mother offered, disappearing into the hallway, and leading the boys into her office. She picked something up, a little rectangle. She flipped it so the design showed, and it looked like a flag of some sorts, with a white horizontal stripe in the middle, a light pink on top and by on the direct bottom of the white, and a baby blue on the very top and bottom. 

"It's the transgender flag," his mom explained, handing it to Michael. "It's a patch, either for your sweater or your backpack. Let me know which one if you want me to help you put it on."

Michael turned to Jeremy, showing him the patch. 

“Dude.”

“Dude.” 

Michael turned back to his mom. “I think I want it on my sweater,” he admitted, giving his attempt at an innocent smile. 

His mom laughed, taking back the patch. “I’ll teach you how to put it on in the living room, just let me get my sewing kit. I’ll meet you in there.” 

Michael nodded a little too aggressively and ran into the living room, Jeremy following. 

“Oh, I should probably put a shirt on if I need to take my hoodie off to put the patch on. 

Jeremy turned as bright as the hoodie again. “Yeah,” he laughed, looking away. “You go do that.”

Michael wondered for a second why Jeremy was acting so nervous around him like he was a stranger and not his best friend for nine years, but he decided that was for another time. 

Once he was put on his favorite shirt (a Super Mario Bros™ shirt that Jeremy got him once for his birthday), he went back into the living room, where he saw his mom interrogating Jeremy, based on Jeremy’s completely red face. He didn’t hear anything his mom asked, only hearing a “Yes Ma’am” from Jeremy before walked around the corner.

“Michael!” Jeremy exclaimed, scrambling up and hugging him. “Help; your mom was interrogating me,” he whispered.

“I can hear you,” his mom chirped.”

“Oh.”

After another round of laughs, Michael’s mom patted the ground next to her, sewing kit and patch in hand, signifying that she wanted Michael to sit down. He did so, putting the hoodie down on the ground in front of him. 

She gave him a sewing lesson, Jeremy watching intently, on how to sew on the patch, which was fairly easy, the most basic sewing pattern being used. However, when she gave it to Michael to finish, he somehow messed it all up. 

“I don’t know how I did this!” he exclaimed, holding up knotted thread and uneven stitches. 

“It’s fine,” Michael’s mom laughed, taking the hoodie from him carefully and beginning to mend it, Jeremy looking at Michael’s disaster in horror and humor. 

When the patch was finally sewed on, Michael slipped the hoodie over his head, letting the largeness of it engulf him, making him feel safe. 

Here he was, new identity in place, finally feeling right in his own body. He felt free for once, laughing and making jokes with his best friend and mother, and his _nanay_ once she came back from work. The sinking feeling in his gut wasn’t there, or at least not as prominent. He knew he would have bad days where dysphoria would slap him in the face, feeling like everything was a mistake, and needing Jeremy to comfort him. He knew school might make that dysphoria worse, as kids could be cruel, especially once you step out of the ‘straight-cis” mold that apparently everyone was made of, even if that wasn’t true. Not everybody was straight, and not everybody was cis, meaning that not everybody conformed to their given gender at birth. Michael’s mom was a prime example of this, and Michael was beginning to think he was too, but again, that was a problem for another day. Now, it was jokes, laughter, and smiles all around. 

Because Michael Mell was a boy. 

And even if he didn’t discover until a week ago, it was true. 

And that was just how it was meant to be.

**Author's Note:**

> As you may have read in the tags, yes I actually did turn this is as an english paper and yes the line "Jeremy, who wore boys freely" is in there I have r e g r e t s about not fully editing that and we're reading these out loud I think and mine might take several days but this is the l o n g e s t thing I have e v e r written I'm sorry "You Have To Stop Doing Things That Make Me Want To Kiss You" but this one takes the cake. Also this was previously titled "Trans-Formation!" wowee arent i clever and now I have to stop, I hope you liked it! Thanks!
> 
> ALSO!  
> Nanay: mom  
> Tita: aunt, but could also be used as "honorary mom" or your friend's mom.  
> However if this is inaccurate please correct me!


End file.
